fredbassett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fredbassett) wrote2010-08-04 09:06 pm
fredbassett) wrote2010-08-04 09:06 pm
Fic, Silk and Steel, Part 54, AU, 18
Title : Silk and Steel, Part 54
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Lester, Leek, Lyle, Ryan, Thomson, Miller, Rees
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ryan is taken to the Interrogation Room.
Warning : Slave!fic. This part contains scenes of interrogation and violence, including torture.
A/N : Captain Thomson appears by kind permission of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deinonychus_1 , and Matt Rees by kind permission of telperion_15 .
The door to the Interrogation Room stood open and the sour stench of human fear pervaded the corridor. A yellow plastic sign stating ‘warning, cleaning in progress’ had been placed outside the door and a man, in the blue overalls of the cleaning and maintenance staff, was working in the room with a mop and bucket.
Leek recognised the mingled smells of sweat, vomit and urine and wondered what the hell Miller had done to the unfortunate computer technician. Whatever it was clearly hadn’t taken long. The burly sergeant lounged in the corridor, watching the clean-up operation with a sneer on his face. When he saw the small cavalcade led by Lester approaching, he drew himself up and saluted smartly.
Lester ignored Miller and made his way into an adjacent doorway which opened onto another part of what was euphemistically known as the Interview Suite. A large window on one wall, made of one-way glass, provided a view into a large room which looked like a cross between the hated and feared Punishment Room and the interview room of any ordinary police station, familiar to most people from the staple diet of detective fiction so beloved of the general public.
During his time in the Prison Service, Oliver Leek had seen many such rooms, and they were all designed along similar lines. The room contained one red plastic chair, for the use of the interrogator rather than the subject, which provided the only splash of colour in an otherwise stark environment. A set of stainless steel bars took pride of place on one wall, complete with straps for restraining a subject’s arms and legs. To one side was something that bore more than a passing resemblance to a doctor’s examination couch, but the number of straps dangling loose on each side betrayed its true purpose. A tap in one wall had a length of hosepipe attached to it that had obviously been used to sluice down the floor and one of the cleaners was ensuring that any remaining water was brushed down a drain in one corner. A small, folded towel was draped over the tap.
The blue-overalled man took a last look around the Interrogation Room, a nervous expression on his face, and then he picked up his bucket and left the room, his steps hurried.
The end wall of the adjacent Viewing Room was taken up by another plasma screen and Leek wondered if Lester would insist on watching the recording of Miller no doubt beating the shit – probably literally – out of the computer technician.
Thomson gestured at the screen. “Would you care to …”
“Let’s get on with the main event,” Lester interrupted. “It’s been a long day and I’ve no desire to spend the entire night pandering to your whims.”
“As you wish, master,” Thomson practically purred. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded to Miller.
Moments later, Ryan was escorted into the Interrogation Room by two more of Thomson’s men, his shoulders stiff with tension, but the captain was clearly unharmed. He glanced once at the mirrored glass, but that was all. Behind him walked Thomson’s lieutenant, Matt Rees. The young man’s handsome face was impassive and Leek found himself wondering how many such interrogations the fresh-faced medic had had to supervise in his time with Section 42. Rees took up station beside the door, his hands linked behind his back.
Leek spared a quick glance at Lyle, who was still following his orders to the letter and acting as Leek’s shadow. For a moment, Leek wondered whether it was wise to keep Lyle at his side during what was to follow. He made discreet eye contact with Lyle, then glanced at the doorway and raised one eyebrow slightly, offering his bodyguard an exit if he cared to take it. His question was answered by an almost imperceptible shake of Lyle’s head. The decision came as no surprise, even though he must have known, as well as Leek did, what was likely to come next. The real question was, did Lester? The man had worked as a government hatchet-man for long enough, but his file – or at least the part of it that Leek had succeeded in snooping at – wasn’t clear on how much of the dirty side of the business he’d been privy to. But if this was his first time at the sharp end, then Leek had no doubt that the other man was in for a nasty shock.
Miller turned to the one-way glass and saluted smartly.
Thomson pressed a switch on the intercom that would relay his voice into the next room. “You may begin, Sergeant.”
With a smile playing across his craggy features, Miller stepped up to Ryan and, without warning, kneed him hard in the groin. Ryan gasped but remained standing.
Leek looked at Lester, wondering if he was going to object to the brutal opening, especially in the light of his earlier orders that Ryan was not to be harmed. Lester’s face was as unreadable as ever and his eyes remained fixed on the unfolding scene.
“Strip.” Miller’s order sounded clearly over the speakers in the Viewing Room. “I want to be sure you didn’t keep any weapons back, Captain.”
His own face as impassive as his watching master’s, Ryan bent down, clearly suppressing any reaction to the pain he must have been feeling between his legs, and unlaced his boots, removing first them and then his thick socks. Then he straightened up, pulled his black tee-shirt over his head and stripped off his trousers and underwear in one movement, dumping them in a heap to one side. The Special Forces captain stood at parade rest, seemingly unconcerned by the fact that he was now naked apart from the steel band encircling his throat.
Miller walked around Ryan, surveying the man from all angles before he reached out with one hand, as quick as a striking snake, and grabbed Ryan’s balls, twisting them painfully under the pretext of carrying out a standard full body search. He meted out the same treatment to Ryan’s cock.
“Touch your toes,” the sergeant ordered.
Leek stared at the man’s meaty hands. His fingers were thick and his nails were bitten and ragged. He knew exactly what was about to come next and so, no doubt, did Ryan.
The sharp sound of snapping rubber came as a surprise both to Miller and the onlookers as Lieutenant Rees stepped forward, pulling latex gloves onto both hands.
“Stand aside,” he ordered quietly, but in a voice that carried the expectation of being obeyed.
Leek watched as anger suffused Miller’s cheeks, but Thomson, watching from one side of the Viewing Room, displayed no obvious emotion. Inside the Interrogation Room, the heavily-set sergeant stared at the young medic in a manner that skated close to insolence, but Rees returned his gaze calmly and showed no sign of backing down. Leek presumed that he hadn’t reached the rank of lieutenant in Section 42 without being able to hold his own under pressure.
“Hold the bars and spread your legs, please, Captain,” Rees asked, in a wholly neutral tone, still staring Miller in the eyes.
Ryan moved into position, reaching up to hold the bars above his head, adopting a position which would have made it impossible for him to use them to obtain any leverage for an offensive move against either of the other men in the room. The Special Forces captain clearly knew the drill.
Rees pulled a small tube out of his pocket and squirted what was obviously lubricant into the palm of one hand. He slicked two fingers quickly and efficiently, and then spread the cheeks of Ryan’s arse with his left hand while he inserted first one finger, then the other, into the captain’s unresisting body. With a practised twist of his wrist, Rees managed both to check for concealed objects and to smear a generous amount of lubricant into and around Ryan’s arse.
Leek knew immediately what Rees was doing. The handsome young medic had effectively prepared Ryan as best he could for being raped, and it was clear from the fury in Miller’s eyes that the sergeant knew exactly what had just happened.
“Thank you, Captain,” said Rees. He raised his voice slightly, “For the record, Captain Ryan has no objects concealed about his body.” The medic pulled off the gloves and discarded them in a bin next to the door. He nodded to Miller and then resumed his place by the wall, his dark eyes watchful.
Miller spared only a moment to glare at Lieutenant Rees, and then he hooked one meaty hand into the back of Ryan's collar and pulled him bodily away from the wall to stand in the centre of the Interrogation Room.
The sergeant positioned himself in front of Ryan, a cruel smile playing on his face. “You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Ryan acknowledged his voice hoarse.
Leek watched as Ryan stared at a point somewhere just beyond Miller’s left shoulder.
A hard jab, from Miller’s bunched fist to Ryan’s stomach, delivered with all the stockier man’s weight behind it, expelled the breath from the captain’s lungs sharply as Ryan doubled over.
Leek looked on, unmoved by Miller’s antics. Ryan had been indentured long enough to have endured far worse beatings than this. He presumed all the sergeant was aiming for was to get Ryan off balance and keep him there.
Miller caught Ryan's hair in one hand and pulled his head up to force him to make eye contact. "Where were you this morning at 3.32am?"
"Sir James Lester's private quarters."
"Incorrect." Miller raised Ryan's head further and delivered a sharp punch to the captain's liver with his free hand. "Again: where were you at 4.32am this morning?"
"In Sir James’ … "
Ryan's reply was cut off by a groan as another punch caught him under his ribs, doubling him over again.
"Still incorrect," said Miller flatly, grasping Ryan's chin and forcing him upright again. "We have proof, backed up by reliable testimony, which places you outside the command centre at precisely 4.32am: just before the Anomaly Detection Device was sabotaged."
"I was in Sir James Lester's quarters all night, the guards will verify that," Ryan said as Miller stepped away from him and circled to stand behind his naked body.
"How did you get out of Lester's quarters undetected?" Miller hissed into Ryan's ear, leaning in close to his back. "Who erased the footage of you leaving? They were your soldiers on guard… did you order them to lie for you?"
"I did not leave Sir James’s quarters." Ryan kept his eyes forward, and Leek shivered as the captain's gaze seemed to blindly rest on his in the adjoining room. Leek knew Ryan couldn't see him, or indeed any of them, or know where each of them stood, but the man's poise, his calm, was eerie.
Ryan gasped with pain as Miller punched him low in the back, over one kidney.
"Is Lester covering for you? Did you drug him?" Miller's voice softened as he leaned his body against Ryan's back, making the captain shift one foot forward to maintain his balance before straightening again. "Or did you just fuck him silly so he slept through you leaving and returning?"
"Slaves don't fuck their masters," said Ryan coldly.
Miller grinned over Ryan's shoulder, but the captain's gaze never wavered from the large mirror in front of him.
"So you drugged him." Miller walked around to face Ryan again, placing himself directly in his line of sight. "That's a crime punishable by death. Death by flogging – not a nice way to go."
"I did not leave Sir James's quarters."
Miller stepped forward and hammered a fist into Ryan's belly again, driving the man to his knees. "You’re lying."
Ryan struggled to his feet slowly, but not fast enough for Miller, who grasped his collar and yanked hard. Ryan choked and Matt Rees took one step forward, his motion aborted as Miller abruptly let go of Ryan and stepped away.
Looking over Ryan's shoulder at the medic, Miller grinned. Then the sergeant turned to face the mirror. "Permission to proceed to other measures, Captain Thomson," he said.
Thomson leaned forward and spoke again into the intercom connecting the two rooms, "Permission granted, Sergeant."
Miller turned back to Ryan, a leer on his face, and Leek swallowed the bile that rose without warning in his throat. He knew what was coming; he had seen it many times. Leek watched as Miller directed Ryan to the couch with its attendant straps and made the captain lie down.
Rees stepped forward, one hand raised warningly, when Miller started to strap Ryan down on his back. The sergeant sneered but moved away from the couch as the medic adjusted the restraints and proceeded to immobilise the naked man himself. Then Rees tilted the couch until Ryan's feet were slightly higher than his head. He checked the restraints one last time, adjusted Ryan's collar more comfortably on his neck, and then took a few steps back.
The medic then took a position of parade rest beside the apparatus, looked toward the mirror and nodded. "The subject is ready, sir."
The sound of running water dragged Leek's attention forcibly away from Ryan and his eyes followed the sound. Miller stood by the tap, a few feet away from the raised couch, and was running water from the hose through his fingers. He fiddled with the tap, taking his time to adjust the flow until he had it to his liking. It ended up as little more than a trickle, but the soft sound of it splashing on the hard tiles was unsettling in the silence.
Miller picked up the folded towel that he’d dropped on the floor while he’d been playing with the water flow, shook it out, and picked up the hose again. He turned toward the couch and grinned in anticipation.
Leek shuddered even as he heard Lyle’s breath catch in his throat. Leek closed his eyes for a moment, hoping fervently that he wasn’t going to end up regretting his decision to let Lyle stay, or the situation – already going from bad to worse – could well turn disastrous.
The sound of water splashing onto Ryan’s naked flesh jerked Leek’s eyes open and the lethal game was on again.
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Lester, Leek, Lyle, Ryan, Thomson, Miller, Rees
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ryan is taken to the Interrogation Room.
Warning : Slave!fic. This part contains scenes of interrogation and violence, including torture.
A/N : Captain Thomson appears by kind permission of
deinonychus_1 , and Matt Rees by kind permission of telperion_15 .The door to the Interrogation Room stood open and the sour stench of human fear pervaded the corridor. A yellow plastic sign stating ‘warning, cleaning in progress’ had been placed outside the door and a man, in the blue overalls of the cleaning and maintenance staff, was working in the room with a mop and bucket.
Leek recognised the mingled smells of sweat, vomit and urine and wondered what the hell Miller had done to the unfortunate computer technician. Whatever it was clearly hadn’t taken long. The burly sergeant lounged in the corridor, watching the clean-up operation with a sneer on his face. When he saw the small cavalcade led by Lester approaching, he drew himself up and saluted smartly.
Lester ignored Miller and made his way into an adjacent doorway which opened onto another part of what was euphemistically known as the Interview Suite. A large window on one wall, made of one-way glass, provided a view into a large room which looked like a cross between the hated and feared Punishment Room and the interview room of any ordinary police station, familiar to most people from the staple diet of detective fiction so beloved of the general public.
During his time in the Prison Service, Oliver Leek had seen many such rooms, and they were all designed along similar lines. The room contained one red plastic chair, for the use of the interrogator rather than the subject, which provided the only splash of colour in an otherwise stark environment. A set of stainless steel bars took pride of place on one wall, complete with straps for restraining a subject’s arms and legs. To one side was something that bore more than a passing resemblance to a doctor’s examination couch, but the number of straps dangling loose on each side betrayed its true purpose. A tap in one wall had a length of hosepipe attached to it that had obviously been used to sluice down the floor and one of the cleaners was ensuring that any remaining water was brushed down a drain in one corner. A small, folded towel was draped over the tap.
The blue-overalled man took a last look around the Interrogation Room, a nervous expression on his face, and then he picked up his bucket and left the room, his steps hurried.
The end wall of the adjacent Viewing Room was taken up by another plasma screen and Leek wondered if Lester would insist on watching the recording of Miller no doubt beating the shit – probably literally – out of the computer technician.
Thomson gestured at the screen. “Would you care to …”
“Let’s get on with the main event,” Lester interrupted. “It’s been a long day and I’ve no desire to spend the entire night pandering to your whims.”
“As you wish, master,” Thomson practically purred. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded to Miller.
Moments later, Ryan was escorted into the Interrogation Room by two more of Thomson’s men, his shoulders stiff with tension, but the captain was clearly unharmed. He glanced once at the mirrored glass, but that was all. Behind him walked Thomson’s lieutenant, Matt Rees. The young man’s handsome face was impassive and Leek found himself wondering how many such interrogations the fresh-faced medic had had to supervise in his time with Section 42. Rees took up station beside the door, his hands linked behind his back.
Leek spared a quick glance at Lyle, who was still following his orders to the letter and acting as Leek’s shadow. For a moment, Leek wondered whether it was wise to keep Lyle at his side during what was to follow. He made discreet eye contact with Lyle, then glanced at the doorway and raised one eyebrow slightly, offering his bodyguard an exit if he cared to take it. His question was answered by an almost imperceptible shake of Lyle’s head. The decision came as no surprise, even though he must have known, as well as Leek did, what was likely to come next. The real question was, did Lester? The man had worked as a government hatchet-man for long enough, but his file – or at least the part of it that Leek had succeeded in snooping at – wasn’t clear on how much of the dirty side of the business he’d been privy to. But if this was his first time at the sharp end, then Leek had no doubt that the other man was in for a nasty shock.
Miller turned to the one-way glass and saluted smartly.
Thomson pressed a switch on the intercom that would relay his voice into the next room. “You may begin, Sergeant.”
With a smile playing across his craggy features, Miller stepped up to Ryan and, without warning, kneed him hard in the groin. Ryan gasped but remained standing.
Leek looked at Lester, wondering if he was going to object to the brutal opening, especially in the light of his earlier orders that Ryan was not to be harmed. Lester’s face was as unreadable as ever and his eyes remained fixed on the unfolding scene.
“Strip.” Miller’s order sounded clearly over the speakers in the Viewing Room. “I want to be sure you didn’t keep any weapons back, Captain.”
His own face as impassive as his watching master’s, Ryan bent down, clearly suppressing any reaction to the pain he must have been feeling between his legs, and unlaced his boots, removing first them and then his thick socks. Then he straightened up, pulled his black tee-shirt over his head and stripped off his trousers and underwear in one movement, dumping them in a heap to one side. The Special Forces captain stood at parade rest, seemingly unconcerned by the fact that he was now naked apart from the steel band encircling his throat.
Miller walked around Ryan, surveying the man from all angles before he reached out with one hand, as quick as a striking snake, and grabbed Ryan’s balls, twisting them painfully under the pretext of carrying out a standard full body search. He meted out the same treatment to Ryan’s cock.
“Touch your toes,” the sergeant ordered.
Leek stared at the man’s meaty hands. His fingers were thick and his nails were bitten and ragged. He knew exactly what was about to come next and so, no doubt, did Ryan.
The sharp sound of snapping rubber came as a surprise both to Miller and the onlookers as Lieutenant Rees stepped forward, pulling latex gloves onto both hands.
“Stand aside,” he ordered quietly, but in a voice that carried the expectation of being obeyed.
Leek watched as anger suffused Miller’s cheeks, but Thomson, watching from one side of the Viewing Room, displayed no obvious emotion. Inside the Interrogation Room, the heavily-set sergeant stared at the young medic in a manner that skated close to insolence, but Rees returned his gaze calmly and showed no sign of backing down. Leek presumed that he hadn’t reached the rank of lieutenant in Section 42 without being able to hold his own under pressure.
“Hold the bars and spread your legs, please, Captain,” Rees asked, in a wholly neutral tone, still staring Miller in the eyes.
Ryan moved into position, reaching up to hold the bars above his head, adopting a position which would have made it impossible for him to use them to obtain any leverage for an offensive move against either of the other men in the room. The Special Forces captain clearly knew the drill.
Rees pulled a small tube out of his pocket and squirted what was obviously lubricant into the palm of one hand. He slicked two fingers quickly and efficiently, and then spread the cheeks of Ryan’s arse with his left hand while he inserted first one finger, then the other, into the captain’s unresisting body. With a practised twist of his wrist, Rees managed both to check for concealed objects and to smear a generous amount of lubricant into and around Ryan’s arse.
Leek knew immediately what Rees was doing. The handsome young medic had effectively prepared Ryan as best he could for being raped, and it was clear from the fury in Miller’s eyes that the sergeant knew exactly what had just happened.
“Thank you, Captain,” said Rees. He raised his voice slightly, “For the record, Captain Ryan has no objects concealed about his body.” The medic pulled off the gloves and discarded them in a bin next to the door. He nodded to Miller and then resumed his place by the wall, his dark eyes watchful.
Miller spared only a moment to glare at Lieutenant Rees, and then he hooked one meaty hand into the back of Ryan's collar and pulled him bodily away from the wall to stand in the centre of the Interrogation Room.
The sergeant positioned himself in front of Ryan, a cruel smile playing on his face. “You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Ryan acknowledged his voice hoarse.
Leek watched as Ryan stared at a point somewhere just beyond Miller’s left shoulder.
A hard jab, from Miller’s bunched fist to Ryan’s stomach, delivered with all the stockier man’s weight behind it, expelled the breath from the captain’s lungs sharply as Ryan doubled over.
Leek looked on, unmoved by Miller’s antics. Ryan had been indentured long enough to have endured far worse beatings than this. He presumed all the sergeant was aiming for was to get Ryan off balance and keep him there.
Miller caught Ryan's hair in one hand and pulled his head up to force him to make eye contact. "Where were you this morning at 3.32am?"
"Sir James Lester's private quarters."
"Incorrect." Miller raised Ryan's head further and delivered a sharp punch to the captain's liver with his free hand. "Again: where were you at 4.32am this morning?"
"In Sir James’ … "
Ryan's reply was cut off by a groan as another punch caught him under his ribs, doubling him over again.
"Still incorrect," said Miller flatly, grasping Ryan's chin and forcing him upright again. "We have proof, backed up by reliable testimony, which places you outside the command centre at precisely 4.32am: just before the Anomaly Detection Device was sabotaged."
"I was in Sir James Lester's quarters all night, the guards will verify that," Ryan said as Miller stepped away from him and circled to stand behind his naked body.
"How did you get out of Lester's quarters undetected?" Miller hissed into Ryan's ear, leaning in close to his back. "Who erased the footage of you leaving? They were your soldiers on guard… did you order them to lie for you?"
"I did not leave Sir James’s quarters." Ryan kept his eyes forward, and Leek shivered as the captain's gaze seemed to blindly rest on his in the adjoining room. Leek knew Ryan couldn't see him, or indeed any of them, or know where each of them stood, but the man's poise, his calm, was eerie.
Ryan gasped with pain as Miller punched him low in the back, over one kidney.
"Is Lester covering for you? Did you drug him?" Miller's voice softened as he leaned his body against Ryan's back, making the captain shift one foot forward to maintain his balance before straightening again. "Or did you just fuck him silly so he slept through you leaving and returning?"
"Slaves don't fuck their masters," said Ryan coldly.
Miller grinned over Ryan's shoulder, but the captain's gaze never wavered from the large mirror in front of him.
"So you drugged him." Miller walked around to face Ryan again, placing himself directly in his line of sight. "That's a crime punishable by death. Death by flogging – not a nice way to go."
"I did not leave Sir James's quarters."
Miller stepped forward and hammered a fist into Ryan's belly again, driving the man to his knees. "You’re lying."
Ryan struggled to his feet slowly, but not fast enough for Miller, who grasped his collar and yanked hard. Ryan choked and Matt Rees took one step forward, his motion aborted as Miller abruptly let go of Ryan and stepped away.
Looking over Ryan's shoulder at the medic, Miller grinned. Then the sergeant turned to face the mirror. "Permission to proceed to other measures, Captain Thomson," he said.
Thomson leaned forward and spoke again into the intercom connecting the two rooms, "Permission granted, Sergeant."
Miller turned back to Ryan, a leer on his face, and Leek swallowed the bile that rose without warning in his throat. He knew what was coming; he had seen it many times. Leek watched as Miller directed Ryan to the couch with its attendant straps and made the captain lie down.
Rees stepped forward, one hand raised warningly, when Miller started to strap Ryan down on his back. The sergeant sneered but moved away from the couch as the medic adjusted the restraints and proceeded to immobilise the naked man himself. Then Rees tilted the couch until Ryan's feet were slightly higher than his head. He checked the restraints one last time, adjusted Ryan's collar more comfortably on his neck, and then took a few steps back.
The medic then took a position of parade rest beside the apparatus, looked toward the mirror and nodded. "The subject is ready, sir."
The sound of running water dragged Leek's attention forcibly away from Ryan and his eyes followed the sound. Miller stood by the tap, a few feet away from the raised couch, and was running water from the hose through his fingers. He fiddled with the tap, taking his time to adjust the flow until he had it to his liking. It ended up as little more than a trickle, but the soft sound of it splashing on the hard tiles was unsettling in the silence.
Miller picked up the folded towel that he’d dropped on the floor while he’d been playing with the water flow, shook it out, and picked up the hose again. He turned toward the couch and grinned in anticipation.
Leek shuddered even as he heard Lyle’s breath catch in his throat. Leek closed his eyes for a moment, hoping fervently that he wasn’t going to end up regretting his decision to let Lyle stay, or the situation – already going from bad to worse – could well turn disastrous.
The sound of water splashing onto Ryan’s naked flesh jerked Leek’s eyes open and the lethal game was on again.